Heartbeats
by Angie63
Summary: Remembering the events of another night helps Sam and Dean get through tonight. Tag to 10x19.


**Heartbeats**

Tag to 10.19

Sam had dozed off halfway home, partially Dean guessed from not sleeping enough and partially from blood loss. He repeatedly kept checking Sam for signs of shock and so far he was doing okay. _What the hell were you thinking Sammy? _Dean was still reeling from the Werther effect on him. Seeing Benny, being back in Purgatory…it scared the shit out of him and he had no idea what exactly Sam had seen. For a few horrible minutes Dean had flashed back to the church the day the angels fell, when he stopped Sam from finishing the trials. Binding up Sam's wounds with his blue bandana. Dean was still curious as hell to find how Sam even knew about the Werther box in the first place. He'd opted to just let Sam recover first but they _were_ going to talk about it. Dean had made another decision. No more solo hunting. The stakes were too high. Sam was hiding something_, Dean was sure of it._ And best guess, it had something to do with him and the Mark of Cain. If he could go back, he'd have stayed that night after Sam cast out Gadreel…but there was never any real going back as the Purgatory experience had proved tonight. What the hell was that about? He missed Benny more than he'd realized. When he'd heard that familiar voice saying _Hello Chief_ for just a minute he'd hoped it was true . He had Sam and Cas but Benny got something about Dean no one else ever had. It seemed logical that he'd argue the pros and cons of …_that_ with Benny.

He was debating pulling into a motel rather than continuing on but no. Sam probably needed stitches. Dean had steri stripped the cuts on his wrists but it would be better to just push on. He'd had enough of motels. Home was better. The bunker was the best thing Dean had happened on. It was spacious and they could do research there. There were no bills and Dean still wasn't sure two years in _how_ they had electricity and water but still kept those in the _not broke_ column. Best of all, it was _safe._ Warded against evil. Just the place for Sam to be safe. With Dean or…without him. No matter what that was what mattered most. Dean reached his hand over and touched Sam's forehead, felt reassured his brother felt normal, neither warm or clammy. He turned on the radio , lowering the volume and drove a little faster towards home.

An hour later, Dean brought the Impala to a stop in front of the bunker. He got out and got the bags from the trunk, opened the front door and set them inside. Then he went back to the car, opened the passenger side and crouched down beside his brother. He shook his arm just a little. "Hey Sam. Come on Sam. We're home. Wake up."

Sam opened his eyes and looked at Dean with a bleary expression. "We home?" Dean smiled and patted his brother affectionately.

"Yeah. We're here. Come on, let's get inside and take a look at those cuts." He stood up and backed up to give his sasquatch little brother room to get out. Sam tried and leaned back. He was exhausted. A hand reached out to him and he looked up at Dean gratefully. The walk to the door was short and silent. Inside, Dean took charge, "Okay straight to the kitchen. We need to look at those cuts." Sam didn't argue as Dean led the way. He tucked the codex book in the inside pocket of his jacket for later.

In the kitchen Dean rolled back Sam's sleeves and gently peeled off the steri strips he'd closed the cuts with apologizing as Sam winced. "Sam,t hese are deep cuts little brother. What were you thinking?" He cleaned each wrist, patting them dry. He began stitching carefully and as gently as possible.

"The inscription said it needed blood. Blood from a Man of Letters. At first it was turning and then it stopped. Dean, did you hallucinate at all, see things that weren't there?"

Dean finished the careful row of neatly placed stitches on Sam's right wrist, covered it in anti-biotic cream and a bandage. He picked up Sam's left wrist. "Yeah. What did you see?", he asked starting the stitches on this side.

"Uh.., "he winced as the needle went in. "Susie and her family", he partially lied. He didn't want to mention Rowena. "You were like catatonic. What did you see?"

Dean covered Sam's left wrist in a bandage. "Purgatory. He rolled back his own sleeve, preparing to stitch his own arm if necessary. He cleaned the wound with soap and water. "And Benny."

Sam stopped Dean's hand. "I'll do it." He was feeling better. He'd had sleep and he wasn't going to let Dean stitch himself up. He waited while Dean settled himself in a chair. He reached for the needle and thread. He picked up Dean's hand, circling the wrist with his fingers. He squeezed tightly for a minute. _We're stronger together than apart. I hate keeping this from you._ "You saw Benny? You thought you were in Purgatory ?", he asked as he inserted the needle.

Dean closed his eyes. "Ummm…oww…yeah. Seemed real Sammy. He tried to talk me into…" _killing myself so you wouldn't have to"…_staying there. That's what clued me in it couldn't be real. Benny would never have suggested I stay." He opened his eyes and looked directly into Sam's. What he saw there reflected was absolute love, mixed with fear. If he had ever doubted Sam's love in the past, he didn't now. "I knew I had to get back to you Sam. Just like the last time. I killed figment of my mind Benny and I found you."

Sam smeared antibacterial cream on the stitches and covered the wound with a bandage."All done", he said and looked away to try and hide the tears gathering in his eyes. He busied himself putting away supplies. Dean stood up and put his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam briefly caught the hand and squeezed it.

"You hungry? Thirsty?", Dean asked. "I'm gonna have a beer, Y'want one?" He walked to the fridge and opened it. He pulled out two beers just in case.

Sam said, "Sure. What do we have to eat?" Dean looked in the fridge. He hadn't made a food run in awhile.

"Cheese and bread. Grilled cheese sound good?" He pulled out the cheese, bread and butter. He washed his hands and grabbed a skillet. He turned up the gas and heated it assembling sandwiches even though Sam hadn't answered.

Sam was struggling not to cry. He said with his back to Dean, "Sounds great. Listen I'm kinda tired. Can you just bring it in the library?" His shoulders were shaking just enough to clue in big brother eyes that he was trying not to lose it. Dean let it go. He knew Sam was trying to be strong.

"Sure, go relax, I'll be right in." He watched Sam go, his heart aching a little as it always had when Sam got emotional. Dean had worked hard at trying to be Mr. No-Chick-Flick-Moment but life circumstances and getting a little older had made it easier to just let them happen. He flipped the sandwiches, turned off the heat. Placing the sandwiches on plates, he cut them and grabbed a tray and a bag of chips. He carried the tray and the beers into the library. Sam had composed himself and was comfortable on one end of the sofa. He'd retrieved the remote but hadn't turned on the television.

Sam accepted a plate and a drink gratefully, feeling very hungry all of a sudden. "Thanks Dean. Looks awesome."

Dean sat down opposite Sam with his own plate. He felt he needed to talk to Sam. He wanted to. Sam needed something. Dean wished they were just the type to say _I love you_ and get it over with but thirty odd years of not saying it made it so hard. "Sam, remember that time Dad was hunting a betala in that podunk place in Kentucky and we stayed in that cabin in the mountains?"

Sam smiled. "Bardstown. "America's most beautiful little city". Both boys laughed.

"Beautiful city full up of . betalas" Dean said,remembering.

**Bardstown, KY 1993**

Dad should have been back. There was a storm coming and he'd left Dean home with Sam who was feeling sick, feverish and coughing. So Dad had no back up and Dean was worried. The research could have been incomplete. Dean had done his best knew it was a serpent like creature, with a bite that sedated it's victims with the bite of razor sharp teeth. But Dad had never seen one. He didn't want to upset Sammy but he kept checking the doors, looking out the windows. He was on edge and his brother knew it.

"Dean?", the ten year old asked. Dean turned to his brother. He went to sit on the sofa beside

Sam. He rubbed Sam's back, distracted. "Is Dad going to be okay?" Dean looked down into the large hazel eyes framed by brown bangs falling over them.

"Sure he is kiddo. He's just taking a little longer than I thought. Hey, it's pretty late. What do you think about going to bed?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I want to stay up til Dad gets back. Please Dean." Dean could never say no to that puppy dog look.

"Okay. But here's the deal. Lying down on the sofa, covered up and you'll take your medicine?." He got the bottle and a spoon. Sam made a face but knew he wouldn't win this one. Even with the look.

"Alright." He opened his mouth and accepted the dosage. He made a face at the taste and Dean smiled.

Brushing the hair back off Sam's face, Dean said, "That's my boy." He grabbed a pillow and blanket and tossed them to little brother as he passed him on his way to the kitchen. Returning with a glass of water, he handed it to Sam. Dean was trying but worry was creeping in with a vengeance . He couldn't stop pacing. Sam watched Dean from the sofa and his own panic increased. Dean's Samdar was on red alert and he forced himself to sit down next to his brother. He talked to Sam about school, about anything but Dad and betalas until the ten year old dozed off. Dean had almost decided he would try and call Bobby when he heard a noise at the door.

He jumped up, reaching for the knife he'd laid on the coffee table, just in case. The door opened and the relief he felt at seeing his father was crushing."Dad!", he shouted forgetting Sam was asleep. But something was wrong. Really wrong. John clutched his arm and staggered forward. Before Dean could reach him, he fell to the floor, exposed arm was red and swollen, took unmistakeable fang marks oozing venom. Dean dropped the knife and ran to his father, feeling for the pulse in his neck. It was strong. He placed a hand on Dad's face. John opened his eyes barely a slit. "Dean,"he whispered. "Antidote. Pocket. Jacket .Hurry." Dean fumbled through his dad's pockets until he found a small glass vial containing a purplish liquid.

"Dean is Dad dead?" Dean turned to look at Sam, then back to John. He forced open the cap of the vial and managed to get the liquid in his father's mouth. He had no idea how long it took to act or what the side effects would be. He looked back to his brother.

"Come here Sam. Bring the pillow and blanket", he said with much more confidence than he felt. Sam was scared. He was too but he couldn't fall apart in front of Sam. Sam timidly obeyed, kneeling beside Dean an Dad Placing, the pillow under Dad's head and covering him with the blanket, Dean took Sam's hand and placed it flat on Dad's chest. "Feel that?", he asked his brother.

Sam gravely nodded. "What is it?" Sam looked up at Dean as if the question was silly.

":It's Dad's heartbeat." Dean gave him a half smile. The one that Sam always thought Dean used when he really wanted to cry.

"That's right. As long as his heart is beating, you know he's not dead. Right here, "he touched Dad's neck, "there's a really big vein that you can feel a pulse in. Feels like a heartbeat. Also just inside your wrist. Always check any of those places if you're not sure."

Sam nodded, not moving his hand. He wanted to keep feeling the thumping of his father's heart. They stayed there, keeping watch for about ten more minutes both afraid to speak or move. Finally, John's eyelids fluttered. He opened his eyes to see two very worried sets of green eyes staring down at him. He tried to smile.

"Hey boys, "he said. "You did good ? " He held up his arm. The bite had disappeared and though he felt sleepy and disoriented, no further medical attention was needed. He looked at Sam who had tears brimming in his eyes."You okay tiger?", he asked.

The tears welled over. Sam knew hunters were supposed to brave like Dad and Dean but he wasn't a hunter yet. "Yes sir. Dean said, as long as your heart is beating, you aren't dead." John laughed. He reached out and pulled his ten year old down to lay his head against his chest.

"Yeah? Well Dean's right tiger. Listen to your big brother. He'll always take care of you" He stroked Sam's hair and Sam felt like everything would be all right.

**The Bunker 2015**

Sam finished his sandwich and took a long sip of beer. He remembered too the night in Bardstown. He hadn't forgotten the many nights he'd laid his head on Dean's chest after he'd been hurt to make sure his heart was beating but that had been over a decade or so. Except the night Metatron stabbed Dean and he'd died in Sam's arms. He'd listened so hard for the beating of his brother's heart and that's when he knew he was dead. Sam sat up abruptly. Dean had been staring into space, lost in his own thoughts.

"Sam?", he asked. "What is it?" Big brother mode kicked in. "Sammy?"he said as his brother started pacing the room as if he might explode if he didn't .Dean was on his feet too, reaching Sam in two long strides. He grabbed Sam by the arms. "Please tell me what's up man. You're kinda freaking me out."

Sam looked at Dean and the expression on his face was heartbreaking. "You got _mad_ at me when I said I couldn't lose you. You threw up what happened last year in my face after…after I watched you die and carried you home. And _lost_ you. And tonight, because of what _I_ did you came close to _killing yourself ._And I would have _lost you again."_ Tears streamed down his face. He didn't really know what he needed or wanted Dean to do. But Dean did.

A hand went up to wipe away tears. Dean's hand was on the side of his face, grounding him. His brother took one of his large hands and placed it in the center of his chest. "What is that?"he asked gently.

With a tear choked voice Sam replied, "It's your heartbeat." He clutched the hand on top of his, leaving his against the thumping of Dean's heartbeat.

"Right. And as long as you can feel it, I'm not dead."_ And you haven't lost me…yet._ Dean pulled Sam in for a hug, trapping their hands between them. He put his free hand on the back of Sam's head. It was the closest the Winchesters came to actually saying _I love you._ And both of them knew what it meant. As he leaned into his brother's embrace with his hand on Dean's heart, feeling it beat, for just a little while Sam felt like everything would be all right.


End file.
